


Crybaby

by scootsaboot



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe, Disgustingly fluffy, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 11:39:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4563210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scootsaboot/pseuds/scootsaboot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys is inexplicably turned into a three year old by the power of science.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crybaby

Jack doesn’t know what to think; isn’t really sure what, exactly, he’s looking at. The silence in the room is deafening, and he can _feel_ the engineer beside him start to shake. With _fear_ , he hopes, because his hands are wrapped around the guy’s meaty neck not two seconds later.

“Did you just,” he starts, pressing his thumbs against the man’s adam’s apple, “ _vaporize_ my PA?”

The engineer tries to hack out some words, his hands coming up to weakly pry Jack’s fingers away from his neck. Honestly, the pile of Rhys’ clothing and ECHOnet lying uselessly on the floor are answer enough, but Jack always liked to have confirmation from the fuckups themselves.

It had just been a normal weapons demonstration; they were down in R&D to approve a new lineup of experimental tech. Something about energy weapons that could change the molecular structure of objects and, in layman’s terms, ‘poof’ them out of existence. The small team of engineers had been pretty excited to show it off to the CEO, and _Jack_ thought he’d get to leave without murdering anyone.

It backfired. Of course. 

Ricocheted right off the metal target and hit Rhys straight on, and he didn’t even have time to be surprised before his ECHOnet clattered to the floor and he was just _gone._  

So here they were; Jack down one PA/fuck buddy/ _Rhys_ , and the R&D department about to be down one engineer... or three.

“ _Sir,_ ” one of the others says, and it sounds like she’s been trying to get his attention for a good while now. 

“ _What?_ ” Jack growls, tearing his gaze away from the blue-faced man in front of him to glare at her. She’s pointing at something and Jack follows the trajectory, eyes falling on the pile of clothes.

Only it wasn’t just a pile of clothing anymore. A small head pokes its way out of the ridiculous asymmetrical shirt, followed by a toddler-sized body. The tiny person sits and stares up at them, mismatched blue and brown eyes wide and curious.

Jack releases the engineer in his grasp and pays no mind to the way he collapses to the floor, wheezing loudly.

“Son of a friggin’ _taint,_ ” Jack grumbles, staring down at the kid with a look of contempt. The little monster just grins at him and Jack turns to the other engineers, his voice low.

“You’re gonna fix this,” he hisses, “and then I’ll think about _not_ killing you and your families. M’kay, kiddos?”

The chorus of frightened ‘yes, sir’s’ doesn’t inspire much confidence in him, but Jack turns on his heel and steps over to the naked toddler who reaches for him as soon as he’s within arm's reach.

Jack mutters to himself, cursing as he wraps the kid in Rhys’ stupid shirt and picks up him, tucking him under his arm like luggage. He grabs the rest of the stuff off the floor, and the kid wiggles in his grip, giggling and grabbing at his jacket.

Just as he’s about to leave, Jack turns back toward the small group of engineers.

“You tell no one about this,” he threatens before leaving through the sliding door and heading back to his office with the gremlin in tow.

As soon as he steps into his private elevator, and the doors slide shut, Jack activates his ECHOcomm.

“Blake, get me some toddler clothes,” he barks as soon as his vice president answers the call. Jack scowls, eyes darting down to the kid who’s got his stubby little fingers in his _mouth_ and there’s _drool_ and Jack is absolutely going to eviscerate someone.

“Don’t ask _why_ , just _do it_!” he snaps at Blake over the comm. There’s a pause and then, “I don’t know, aren’t the sizes basically the same? What the hell does it _matter_ \--”

He looks down at the kid again, “Hey, drool factory, how old are you?”

And he watches, disgusted, as the kid drags his fingers out of his mouth, shiny with spit, and holds two up, and then with some trouble, three.

“F’ree,” he says, and then wipes his hand on Jack’s sleeve.

Jack feels a muscle twitch beneath his eye, but he relays that information to Blake before hanging up on him. When the doors of the elevator slide open, Jack stalks into his office and sets the toddler down on his desk.

With a heavy sigh, Jack plops down into his chair and gives the kid a hard look. Cybernetic right arm (so tiny now), stupid wavy hair (much, much wavier than he’s ever seen it), blue ECHOeye implant… it’s definitely Rhys.

Rhys kicks his legs against the desk and flaps his organic arm in the sleeve of the too-long shirt he’s wrapped in. The more Jack looks at him, the more he thinks this must be some elaborate prank, or maybe a nightmare.

Yes, this had to be some horrific, liquor-induced dream; Rhys has absolutely forced him to watch Toddlers & Tiaras before and it could very well have bled into his subconscious and created this disaster.

Blake’s shoes clacking against the tile pulls Jack from his thoughts and the blond-haired man stops at the other side of the desk, a small plastic bag in his hand. The vice president holds the bag out and Jack snatches it, rifling through the contents.

Blake eyes Rhys, deadpan and unconcerned, before looking at the CEO.

“Anything else?”

“No, beat it,” Jack waves him off, pulling the clothes out of the bag. Blake leaves and honestly, Jack probably couldn’t have picked a better vice president. He does as he’s told and he’s _competent_ and he won’t tell anyone about the fucking toddler in Jack’s office.

“Alright,” he says, “time to get dressed.”

Luckily, the kid is able to do most of it himself; he puts on his underwear and slides his arms through the tiny, Hyperion yellow shirt and only needs Jack’s help to pull it down over his head. The teal-colored overalls, with shorts instead of pants, are kind of a weird choice on Blake’s part, but the kid seems to like them well enough and he shoves his hands as deep into the front pocket as possible.

The socks and shoes come last and Jack has to tie the shoelaces once they get the red mini-converse on Rhys’ feet. Tying the knots, Jack is struck with a feeling of old familiarity that he quickly shakes off as he stands up.

“Welp,” he claps his hands together, “I got shit to do, kiddo. Go entertain yourself. Don’t open any doors, don’t touch anything.”

Rhys stares up at him and doesn’t move, and it’s just a little creepy, so Jack clears his throat and turns his attention back to his computer and pulls up some work documents. He can still feel the kid’s eyes on him a few minutes later, and he decidedly doesn’t so much as glance at him.

Unfortunately, Rhys doesn’t seem to like that and it’s not long before there’s a tiny hand gripping his pants and the kid _climbs_ his way up into Jack’s lap.

“Oh no, nuh uh, _no_ ,” Jack says as he plucks the kid up and sets him back on the floor. When Rhys smiles stupidly and tries to climb up again, Jack grabs him by the back of his overalls (Blake you _genius_ ) and sets him firmly on the ground.

“ _No,_ ” he says again, in the same tone he’d use to scold a dog, “bad...bad Rhys.” If he had a newspaper, he’d roll it up and smack him with it.

Rhys’ mouth twists into a pout and Jack sees his bottom lip start to quiver and he freezes.

“ _Do not_ ,” he warns, but it’s too late, the floodgates were opened. Fat tears roll down the kid’s cheeks and the loud wailing would haunt Jack’s nightmares for _weeks_. He’d never disliked the acoustics in his office until that moment, with Rhys’ crying echoing and reverberating against the walls, and it’d be a goddamn miracle if anyone in the building _didn’t_ hear it.

“Jesus Christ, fine! God _damn_ , you’re loud,” Jack grabs the strap of the kid’s overalls and pulls him into his lap irritably. Rhys quiets down instantaneously, a few short breaths and hiccups the only sounds to indicate his short-lived temper tantrum.  

Not even a minute later, he was pressing all sorts of buttons on the keyboard and giggling at the error noises the computer made. Jack rubbed his fingers against his temple, feeling the beginnings of a headache creeping up on him.

Rhys eventually gets bored of that and Jack handed him an ECHOnet and downloads a finger-painting app to keep him busy. The office now blissfully silent, Jack taps away at the keyboard again, fixing anything Rhys had messed with before getting back to work.

The next hour passes that way, Rhys holding up every picture he’d drawn for Jack to see. The first one looked like some sort of animal, but Jack was unable to guess which and Rhys’ answer was unintelligible. The next few were mostly just rainbow-y scribbles, but there were a few stickfigures that popped up every once in awhile and Jack had to assume the one with the upside-down ‘V’ over its face was supposed to be him.

Quiet time is cut short when an incoming call on the computer rings out. Jack accepts the call with a sigh and a screen pops up with the nervous face of the sales department head.

“What?”

“S-sir,” the spindly man starts, adjusting his glasses, “the meeting is about to start.”

Ah shit, that’s right. Jack forgot he had a meeting with all the department heads today. He glances down at Rhys who’s staring at the video chat, enthralled.

“Alright, yeah, I’ll be down in five,” Jack replies, cutting the feed. He thinks for a moment, knowing he’s going to have to find someone to dump the kid on during the meeting. Maybe… his short accounting friend? With the abs? Vaughn, he’s pretty sure is his name.

He pulls up the records from accounting in Sector D and searches the name. Luckily, there’s only one Vaughn in accounting and he quickly dials the nerd’s ECHOcomm. There’s a short pause before it rings once… then twice.... and a third time. It continues to ring a couple more times before Jack ends the call with a frown.

He’s not entirely sure Rhys _has_ any other friends and Jack certainly doesn’t have the patience to try and remember. Instead, he wraps an arm around the toddler and gets up, taking the ECHOnet and setting it on his desk before the kid can drop it.

Jack makes his way out of the large office, Rhys trying his best to wiggle out of his grasp and escape.

“Nooo,” he whines, kicking his feet uselessly. Jack ignores him and adjusts his grip as he steps into the elevator. He calls Blake on the ECHOcomm again and tells him to meet him outside conference room A.

When he gets there, the vice president is already beside the door and Jack can see through the darkened windows of the conference room that all the department heads are seated and waiting.

“Blake,” he crowds the other man, keeping his back to the conference room lest anyone see the goddamn three year old in his arms.

“Sir,” the other man replies looking, impossibly, even less enthusiastic than he had earlier.

“Yeah, I need you to take this,” Jack holds Rhys out to the vice president, who makes no move to take him.

“Why--”

“ _Not_ important,” Jack huffs, “Just take the damn kid while I go listen to these jackholes throw their terrible ideas around.”

“Yes, sir,” Blake says, resigned, reaching out to take Rhys from the CEO. With the kid out of his hair for the moment, Jack nods to Blake before turning on his heel and heading to the conference room door. It takes until the moment he wraps his fingers around the door handle--but when he does, Rhys lets out a miserable _shriek_.

All the department heads are staring through the window now and Jack turns to look at the kid who’s struggling against Blake, tears already flowing. Blake, goddamn him, is having none of it and he puts Rhys down almost immediately. Once he’s free, Rhys runs the small distance to Jack and clings to his leg, burying his face into the material of his jeans.

“Goddammit,” Jack curses, sparing a glance to the conference room. Everyone inside immediately looks away and tries to pretend they hadn’t been watching the entire scene. With a heavy sigh, Jack bends down and scoops the kid up.

“Friggin’ brat,” he says when Rhys tucks against his neck and sniffles. He gives Blake a displeased look before using his free hand to pull the door open.

“Let’s get this over with.”

Everyone is deathly silent, eyes either awkwardly trained on the table or at the wall when Jack steps in and takes a seat at the head of the table. Rhys gets comfortable in his lap and reaches for the pens in front of him, his crying fit not two minutes ago already forgotten.

“One word,” Jack starts, his voice tense as Rhys starts doodling on his arm, “and I will kill everyone in this room.”

 

* * *

 

 

The meeting ends up going fine--Jack doesn’t even feel the need to fire anyone, which is a miracle in and of itself, given the day he’s had. Rhys fell asleep sometime during the requisitions report and Jack thought maybe he’d get a break for a few hours if the kid continued napping. No such luck unfortunately; Rhys is rubbing his eyes as soon as the meeting ends and everyone starts bustling around.

None of them even dare to look Jack in the eye as they head out the door and it really warms his heart, honestly. The ability to strike fear into the hearts of his employees even with a baby scribbling on him--now _that’s_ power.

He nudges the kid, and Rhys willingly climbs out of his lap, shoving his small collection of stolen pens into his pockets. Jack gets to his feet next and cracks his neck, glad that these meetings are only once every two weeks. They always dragged on forever and Jack has much better things to do with his time.

The dark scribbles on his arm have almost entirely eclipsed his wrist tattoo and he _knows_ it’s going to stain his skin for at least a few days.

“Jack?” Rhys’ small voice and tiny hand wrapping around his fingers gets his attention, and he looks down at him. It’s the first time the kid’s said his name since the ‘Incident’ and Jack’s surprised his tiny little brain even remembers it.

“M’hungry,” he says quietly, barely understandable.

The only thing in Jack’s office is coffee, and despite the fact that he was sure the news of Handsome Jack with a toddler was already buzzing around the office, he damn sure wasn’t about to take the kid down to the cafeteria. He wasn’t even sure if there was anything a three year old would willingly eat there. He’d probably have to take him down to the shopping district for… mac n cheese? Maybe chicken nuggets? What the fuck do kids eat these days?

He shakes his head; he can’t take Rhys down to the shopping district. That would be even worse than the cafeteria. No, he was going to have to get someone else to do it.

Rhys clutches his hand tightly as they head back to Jack’s office, the CEO having to shorten his stride considerably so the toddler can keep up.

Once he’s at his desk, Jack jabs the intercom button, wincing at the sharp feedback that has Rhys covering his ears.

“Hey kiddos,” he says into the mic, “Handsome Jack here. I need uh, Vaughn from accounting in Sector D to come to my office. Pronto. Immediately. Uh..promptly. _Rapidly_. If I run out of synonyms before you’re standing in front of me, you’re not gonna have legs to leave with. Y’know, since you’re obviously not using them.”

He can’t help but laugh at the thought and Rhys, the stupid baby that he is, laughs because _Jack_ is laughing.

“Where was I? Chop-Chop, short stack, let’s go.”

His office doors slide open moments later to reveal the very nerd Jack wants to see. He’s clutching the doorframe with one hand, and his chest with the other, panting heavily, glasses askew.

Jack turns off the intercom and grins at Vaughn.

“Nice hustle, sport.”

“S-sir?” The shorter man wheezes, his face a mix of terrified confusion. Jack beckons him forward and Vaughn is quick to move, catching his breath as he closes the distance between them. It’s when he adjusts his glasses that he notices the toddler seated happily on Jack’s desk.

When the kid notices _him_ , he jumps to his feet, shrieking Vaughn’s name, and launches at him. Vaughn just barely manages to catches him; the kid was heavier than he looked. Once he’s sure the toddler isn’t going to fall out of his grip, he looks at Jack questioningly.

“Yeah, _long_ story,” Jack says before Vaughn can ask, even though it really isn’t.

“Rhysie here needs some lunch. I’m extremely busy, so,” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a sleek plastic card. “Go buy something for him. Grill him a cheese, whatever. Buy him some toys too, y’know, keep him entertained till the end of the day.”

“Uh...sure,” Vaughn blinks and reaches out his free hand to take the credit card.

“Is he...gonna go back to normal?” the shorter man asks worriedly. As cute as Rhys is, he’d rather have his regular-sized best friend.

“Yeahhh, I got people working on that,” Jack scratches his chin, “it’ll get fixed. Now beat it. I’ll swing by your apartment later to get him. Oh, and obviously, keep this to yourself. I wasn’t joking about the leg thing.”

He’s ushered out of the office before he can really get a word in edgewise, the doors sliding firmly shut behind him. He looks at Rhys, who seems unsure about something, but then he’s grinning and reaching up to tug on Vaughn’s bowtie.

He watches Rhys for a moment and thinks that this is definitely the weirdest thing that’s ever happened at Hyperion, which is saying something. He also thinks that Yvette needs to be told immediately, and he sets off to find her.

By the time they reach the requisitions department, Rhys has decided he wants to walk by himself, so Vaughn holds his hand to make sure he doesn’t wander off and get lost. When he peeks his head over Yvette’s cubicle, she’s typing away at her computer. Her desk is littered with old candy wrappers and empty snack bags.

“Yeesh, how can you even find anything on that desk?” he asks teasingly, getting her attention.

Yvette’s fingers pause on her keyboard and she gives Vaughn _the look;_ he puts his free hand up in surrender.

“What’s up, Vaughn?” she asks, turning in her chair to face him.

He pauses for a moment and considers how best to explain the situation.

“Okay, well, you heard on the intercom that Handsome Jack called me to his office, right?” Vaughn starts, continuing when Yvette nods her head. “Well...I mean, he didn’t really tell me _what_ happened, but there was an accident I guess and uh…”

He looks down at Rhys, who’s just untied his shoes; Vaughn walks him around the cubicle so Yvette can see for herself. Her eyebrows go straight up when she sees him.

“Is that-”

“‘Vette!” Rhys shouts excitedly, nearly tripping over his shoelaces to get to her. He hugs her legs, smushing his cheek against her knee and giggling.

“So...Rhys got turned into a toddler? That was the accident?” Yvette asks, ruffling the kid’s hair, “not sure if I want to know why Hyperion has that kind of technology.”

Vaughn shrugs, “Yeah, probably best not to ask. But we’re about to go get lunch, if you wanna come.”

“You paying?”

With a grin, Vaughn flashes the black credit card he’d been given, “No, but Jack is.”

“I’m in.”

 

* * *

 

They wind up at Yvette’s favorite (and inexpensive) burger joint, because they have a lot of kid-friendly options and Vaughn is actually very afraid of spending too much of Jack’s money. Rhys gets a small portion of macaroni and cheese with a fruit cup that Vaughn has to practically cram down his throat. Even as an adult, Rhys isn’t fond of healthier foods and honestly, Vaughn’s amazed his friend hasn’t had any related health issues yet.

After, they head to the department store to get Rhys some toys. Yvette has a much easier time spending Jack’s money and they end up getting way more than Rhys really needs. They get plastic dinosaurs and racecars and some of those monster high dolls because Rhys absolutely refuses to put down Honey Swamp.

Yvette also insists on a few coloring books and more clothes because ‘who knows how long he’ll be stuck like this’ and Vaughn really can’t argue with that. They get Rhys a few shirts, pants and shoes; he’s very picky about it and shakes his head at almost everything Vaughn shows him. He gets frustrated eventually and just starts grabbing things himself, and Vaughn probably shouldn’t be surprised by how fashion conscious he is.

When they get to the pajama section, Rhys wastes no time before he zeroes in on a giraffe onesie. It’s _cute_ and Yvette has to pull it off the hanger before Rhys yanks the whole rack down in his excitement.

He begs to wear it immediately and Yvette helps him into it in the changing room. When they come back out through the door, Rhys is bouncing around, telling Vaughn to “look, look!”

Back at Vaughn’s apartment, they throw everything in the washer as Rhys tears into his new toys. He bounces on his feet and shoves the monster high box into Vaughn’s hands.

“Open it, open it, open it!”

“Okay, okay,” Vaughn laughs, and gets to work on all the twist-ties holding the doll inside the box. Rhys is surprisingly patient as he watches Vaughn open it, his hands resting on the man’s knee. When Vaughn finally frees the doll (really, the packaging was a little excessive), he hands it over to the toddler who’s got stars in his eyes.

He says a quiet ‘thank you’ and takes the doll before running off to play.

“You think he’s gonna remember this when he goes back to normal?” Vaughn asks, watching Rhys dump his tiny dinosaurs out on the carpet.

“You mean _if_ he goes back to normal,” Yvette says from the kitchen, where she’s boiling some water for tea.

“Aw, come on, don’t say that,” Vaughn frowns, glancing at the woman, “He’ll be back to his usual self in no time! Right, buddy?”

Rhys looks up from toys and grins brightly.

“You’re so freaking _cute_ ,” Vaughn can’t help but gush, taking a seat next to him and ruffling his hair.

“I know!” Rhys chirps, adjusting the joints of his monster high doll until it can stand up by itself.

Yvette laughs into her hand and shakes her head, “that’s Rhys all right.”

“I’m totally gonna miss being so much taller than him,” Vaughn says, “it’s so unfair.”

Yvette snorts, “At least you’re not the one running around in a pair of overalls.”

“Point.”

When Rhys gets bored, he starts looking through Vaughn’s movie collection. Most of them look really boring to him, all dull colors and no pictures. He grabs a few that seem cool and brings them over to Vaughn.

“Oh boy,” Vaughn says as he shuffles through them, “well, we’re definitely not watching _that,_ ” setting the DVD of Pulp Fiction aside.

“Yikes, Tarantino fan, huh?” he shakes his head and adds Kill Bill to the ‘no’ pile. Thankfully, the next movie is Wreck it Ralph and Vaughn gets up to pop it in the player. Yvette and Rhys get comfortable on the small couch and once the movie starts, Vaughn joins them.

Rhys ends up loving it, and neither Vaughn or Yvette are surprised because it’s his favorite Disney movie as an adult. When it’s over, he gushes about everything but _mostly_ about Vanellope and how happy he is that she gets to race at the end (“and be a princess!!”)

Jack shows up a few hours later in the midst of a very intense game of hide and seek. Yvette pauses their search for Rhys to answer the door, and Jack strides in like he owns the place (which...yeah, okay).

“Fun day?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at the mess in the living room, toys and crayons scattered across the carpet.

“Hah, yeah,” Vaughn rubs the back of his head and moves to start cleaning up. A cabinet door slams open in the kitchen and Rhys bounds across the apartment and clings to Jack’s leg.

“Jack!” he shrieks excitedly, peering up at him.

“Heya Kiddo,” Jack greets him, eyeing the pajamas he’s got on with amusement, “got all your stuff?”

“Uhm,” Rhys looks back at the living room where Vaughn is trying to get everything collected and ready for travel. He lets go of Jack’s leg and wanders over to help, throwing his toys into the bag Vaughn already has.

Once everything’s put away, Rhys hugs Vaughn and Yvette goodbye and latches onto Jack’s hand with his own as they leave.

When they get back to the penthouse, it’s almost seven and Rhys demands chicken nuggets. Luckily, Jack had gone shopping for some ‘small people’ food (because there’s not much in his cabinets aside from whiskey) and he’s not really up for dealing with the kid throwing a fit, or starving to death or whatever.

When Rhys finishes, he slides off the couch and heads to the kitchen. He leans up on his toes to slide the empty plate onto the countertop. His cybernetic arm beeps loudly at him before the fingers go slack and the entire arm falls limply to his side. The plate falls and Rhys squeaks when it shatters on the floor and sends broken glass skittering across the marble.

“Jesus Kiddo, makin’ a damn mess,” Jack grumbles, glass crunching under his boots as he makes his way across the kitchen. He lifts Rhys up and sets him on the counter before moving to grab a broom and sweep up the glass. After her dumps the glass in the garbage, he sees Rhys frowning down at his dead arm, his left hand pulling at the fingers as if it’ll magically turn on again.

“Battery’s probably dead,” he says, helping the kid down from the counter. Rhys follows Jack to the bedroom, his frown deepening the longer he looks at his cybernetic arm.

“Where’s that damn thing,” Jack mutters to himself as he searches the desk. Pulling open a drawer, he spots it: Rhys’ arm charger, put away all nice and neat with the cord wrapped up. He pulls it out and plugs it into the wall before turning back to the kid.

“C’mon, let’s get that dead weight off,” he kneels down and pushes Rhys’ sleeve up before pressing his fingers to the arm’s shoulder to try and feel for the unlocking mechanism. It’s _tiny,_ which is obnoxious, but he does eventually find it and the metal clicks, releasing the arm. It rests in his hand, so much lighter than he’s used to and he sets it on the desk.

The _look_ Rhys is giving him is something distraught and Jack can _see_ the way he’s biting his lip and his eyes are getting wet.

“Oh no, no no _no_ ,” Jack shakes his head, “none of that, not _again._ Look!” He turns and grabs the charger, “I’m gonna plug it in, and it’ll be good as new by morning.”

Jack holds the arm and goes to plug the charger in, only to stop short when he realizes the charger is too goddamn big for the arm plug. He stands there for a moment, presses the plug in despite everything in the hopes that it’ll somehow fit. It doesn’t, of course and he sets the arm down and pinches the bridge of his nose irritably.

He hears the sniffling before he even turns around, and sure enough, Rhys’ shoulders are shaking and it’s only seconds before the tears are falling. Jack winces when the kid looks like he’s going to start wailing like he had during his tantrums earlier. Instead, he just hiccups pathetically and cries.

_Quietly._

Jack squints at him. Goddamn brat.

“I’ll get it to work, alright?” he says gruffly, “or, shit, we’ll find a smaller one. _Stop crying_.”

Rhys whimpers and brings his left hand up to rub his eyes but it doesn’t stop the flow of tears.

“Come _on,_ ” he sighs, more to himself than to Rhys. When the kid _still_ doesn’t stop, Jack finally, begrudgingly, lifts him into his arms. Rhys presses his face into the crook of Jack’s neck, the hood of his stupid onesie falling back against his shoulders. He grimaces at the wet tears soaking into his shirt and brings his hand up to Rhys’ back, rubbing small, soothing circles.

“What is this, huh?” Jack asks after a time, “ friggin’ crybaby. You think just cause you’re all small and shit you can get away with this crap?”

Rhys hiccups quietly and Jack, frowning, makes no move to put him down.

Idly, he hopes Rhys doesn’t remember any of this when he returns to normal. Jack would never live it down. He’d probably have to send the guy out an airlock and find a new skinny nerd for his booty calls.

His arms feel ready to fall off by the time the kid quiets down and Jack moves to set him down, but Rhys’ grip on his shirt tightens.

“Christ, Kiddo, c’mon,” Jack huffs, and after a moment, Rhys leans back to sheepishly look up at him. His eyes are red and his cheeks are still wet and Jack absolutely hates him.

Jack carries him back to the bedroom and sets him down on the bed.

“Go to sleep,” he says, pointing at the mountain of pillows at the headboard. Rhys turns his head to look but ultimately doesn’t move, turning to pout up at Jack.

“ _What_?” the CEO asks, exasperated. Rhys just tugs on his hand and Jack grumbles something unintelligible, before plopping down against the pillows. Rhys tucks himself into the space between Jack’s arm and his side, resting his cheek on the man’s chest. Jack kicks his shoes off and grabs his tablet off the side table, swiping the power button.

He’s not sure when Rhys finally passes out, doesn’t bother checking, and doesn’t move for the rest of the night, eventually falling asleep with the tablet in his lap.

 

* * *

 

Five days later, Rhys is still small and the three engineers who’d made him that way are no longer among the living, replaced by considerably more competent employees. Jack has fallen into a new, weird routine since then-- get the kid up, help him bathe, get him dressed and _fed_. They bring his toys to Jack’s office so he’ll stay quiet while the CEO works, then he’ll send him off with Yvette and Vaughn for lunch.

Jack even managed to find a charger that would work for Rhys’ arm, so there were no more tantrums over that at least.

He gets the call that day, sometime before lunch, that they finally, _finally_ figured out how to reverse Rhys’ condition and put him back in his regular dumbass body. Jack tears the kid away from his coloring book and books it to R&D.

“And you tested this?” Jack asks, eyeing the experimental gun in one of the engineer's hands; it looks strikingly familiar to the one that put him in this mess to begin with.

“Yes, sir.”

“Multiple times? On organic beings?”

“Of course, sir.”

Jack scowls at the man for a moment and he feels Rhys’ hand tighten in his.

“Alright, cupcake, let’s get to it. But uh, just know that if this doesn’t work, you’re gonna wind up on the business end of a thresher.”

The engineer seems a little less sure now, but nonetheless, has Rhys stand in the center of the room. The kid doesn’t like it when he has to let go of Jack’s hand and he bites his lip when the engineer aims the weird energy weapon at him.

There’s a flash of purple light that envelops Rhys and disappears just as quickly, and Jack watches as...absolutely nothing happens. Rhys blinks and looks down, as if making sure he’s still all there. Then the crying starts.

Jack has the lead engineer _escorted_ off of helios shortly after and decides to take this particular project out of R&D’s hands. He’ll figure it out himself, because that’s always the goddamn case, isn’t it? He’s surrounded by incompetent assholes.

He takes the weapon prototype and the research notes back to his office (precariously, because Rhys is in his left arm) and spreads them out on his desk. Jack pours over it, and frustratingly enough, all the math looks correct. R&D did exactly what he would have done and he settles for glaring at the papers, and then at Rhys.

Jack spends most of the night at his home office, searching for another way to fix this mess.

He actually wants to tear his hair out in irritation when he checks in on the kid the next morning and the lanky piece of shit is back to normal. Rhys’ stupid twenty-eight year old face is pressed into the pillow, mouth open and drooling.

Jack curses.

He curses Rhys as he bitterly slides into the king sized bed, and he curses those goddamn dead engineers as he throws an arm over the other man’s waist.

“I hate you,” he says, pulling Rhys against his chest, “so much.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was really self-indulgent and fluffy but I hope it was enjoyable! I wanna thank J for helping me brainstorm, beta-ing, and drawing some fabulous art!! You can find us both on tumblr @ scootsaboot.tumblr.com and damnhyperions.tumblr.com


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